Passing out of the park, Charles set down his burden at the door of a small farmhouse at the further end of the village, and knocked. For some time he stood waiting for an answer, and heard no sound save the cows and horses moving about in the warm straw-yard. The beasts were in their home. No terrible new morrow for them. He was without in the street; his home irrevocable miles behind him; still not a thought of flinching or turning back. He knocked again.

The door was unbarred. An old man looked out, and recognised him with wild astonishment.

“Mr. Charles! Good lord-a-mercy! My dear tender heart, what be doing out at this time a-night? With his portmantle, too, and his carpet bag! Come in, my dear soul, come in. An, so pale and wild! Why, you’m overlooked. Master Charles.”

“No, Master Lee, I ain’t overlooked. At least not that I know of ”

The old man shook his head, and reserved his opinion.

“But I want your gig to go into Stonnington,”

“Tonight?”

“Ay, tonight. The coach goes at eight in the morning; I want to be there before that.”

“Why do’ee start so soon? They’ll be all abed in the Chichester Arms.”

“I know. I shall get into the stable. I don’t know where I shall get. I must go. There is trouble at the Hall.”

“Ay! ay! I thought as much, and you’m going away into the world?”

“Yes.”

The old man said, “Ay! ay!” again, and turned to go upstairs. Then he held his candle over his head, and looked at Charles; and then went upstairs muttering to himself.

Presently was aroused from sleep a young Devonshire giant, half Hercules, half Antinolis, who lumbered down the stairs, and into the room, and made his obeisance to Charles with an air of wonder in his great sleepy black eyes, and departed to get the gig.

Of course his first point was Ranford. He got there in the afternoon. He had in his mind at this time, he thinks (for he does not remember it all very distinctly), the idea of going to Australia. He had an idea, too, of being eminently practical and business-like; and so he did a thing which may appear to be trifling, but which was important — one cannot say how much so. He asked for Lord Ascot instead of Lady Ascot.

Lord Ascot was in the library. Charles was shown in to him. He was sitting before the fire, reading a ovel. He looked very worn and anxious, and jumped up nervously when Charles was announced. He dropped his book on the floor, and came forward to him, holding out his right hand.

“Charles,” he said, “you will forgive me any participation in this. I swear to you ”

Charles thought that by some means the news of what had happened at Ravenshoe had come before him, and that Lord Ascot knew all about Father Mackworth’s discovery. Lord Ascot was thinking about Adelaide’s flight; so they were at cross purposes.

“Dear Lord Ascot,” said Charles, “how could I think of blaming you, my kind old friend?”

“It is devilish gentlemanly of you to speak so, Charles,” said Lord Ascot. “I am worn to death about that horse, Haphazard, and other things; and this has finished me. I have been reading a novel to distract my mind. I must win the Derby, you know; by Gad, I must.”

“Whom have you got. Lord Ascot?”

“Wells.”

“You couldn’t do better, I suppose?”

“I suppose not. You don’t know — I’d rather not talk any more about it, Charles.”

“Lord Ascot, this is, as you may well guess, the last time I shall ever see you. I want you to do me a favour.”

“I will do it, my dear Charles, with the greatest pleasure. Any reparation —”

“Hush, my lord! I only want a certificate. Will you read this which I have written in pencil, and, if you conscientiously can, copy in your own hand, and sign it. Also, if I send to you a reference, will you confirm it?”

Lord Ascot read what Charles had written, and said —

“Yes, certainly. You are going to change your name, then?”

“I must bear that name, now; I am going abroad.”

Lord Ascot wrote —

“The undermentioned Charles Horton I have known ever since he was a boy. His character is beyond praise in every way. He is a singularly bold and dexterous rider, and is thoroughly up to the management of horses.

“Ascot.”

“You have improved upon my text. Lord Ascot,” said Charles. “It is like your kindheartedness. The mouse may offer to help the lion, my lord; and, although the lion may know how little likely it is that he should require help, yet he may take it as a sign of good will on the part of the poor mouse. Now, goodbye, my lord; I must see Lady Ascot, and then be off.”

Lord Ascot wis............